"These are the marks of blood," said Mr. Mace, gravely. "And here are finger-marks of a similar kind outside this drawer." "Why, that is one of Mr. Brancker's drawers," said Sweet. "One of Mr. Brancker's drawers, hey? Does that gentleman keep any money in it, do you know?" "Oh, no, sir; that's not one of the cash drawers; and, besides, the money's all put away in the strong room at night." Mr. Mace made a careful examination of the rest of the office, but discovered nothing further out of the ordinary way. He then locked the two doors that opened into the office, and put the keys in his pocket. He and Sweet were just crossing the corridor when John Brancker, pale and breathless, came hurriedly in. "This terrible tale, that I have just heard, cannot be true, Mr. Mace," he said. "Only too true, I am sorry to say, Mr. Brancker. Come and see for yourself," answered the chief constable, and he led the way into Mr. Hazeldine's office. The body had been covered with a sheet, and Doctor Barton was in the act of putting on his overcoat. He shook hands with Mr. Brancker, whom he had known for years. John's glance traveled from the table with its terrible burden to the doctor's face, and then tears rushed to his eyes. It seemed all like a hideous dream. "We can do no more at present," said the doctor to Mr. Mace. "There will have to be a 'post-mortem,' of course; but that, I apprehend, will merely serve to verify what we know pretty well already. The tissue of the heart has doubtless been punctured by some sharp instrument--probably by the knife in your possession--and death must have been almost instantaneous." "But who can have done it?" asked John, in a stupor of horror and grief. He lifted a corner of the sheet, and gazed for a moment on the well-known face, on which there now rested such an awful calm, while the firm-set lips gave John the impression of keeping back by main force some grim secret, untold in life and now frozen into silence for ever. "That's just what we would all like to know," answered Mr. Mace, dryly. "There was a light in his office when I called for my umbrella about half-past ten," said John. "But did you see Mr. Hazeldine, and speak to him at that time?" asked Mace. "No, I never saw him at all yesterday evening. He did not get back from London till late, and I would not disturb him." "Then it must have been you, sir, that I heard going out about that time," said Sweet. "Most probably. I let myself in with my pass-key, found my umbrella in the dark, and was out of the Bank again in three minutes." "And I came upstairs when I heard the door bang, thinking it was Mr. Hazeldine who had gone," said Sweet. "I was quite dumbfounded when I opened the office-door and saw him sitting there in his chair. 'I shall not be done for about half an hour yet,' says he. 'I will let myself out when I'm ready. You needn't trouble any more, Sweet.' So with that I went, leaving him sitting there. Little did I think----"